


Manhandle Me, Daddiolus

by Lhugy_for_short



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, M/M, Manhandling, Masturbation, Muscle Kink, Sexy Massage, Thirsty Prompto, Wild Sexy Times, With everyone but Noct, ignis is done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 10:57:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13703052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lhugy_for_short/pseuds/Lhugy_for_short
Summary: Prompto's got itbadfor a certain dark, tall, muscular hot shot, but he's absolutely positive Gladio could never want him back. Right? Right. Not in a million years. He's just a skinny kid with a weird kink for being picked up, thrown around, and maybe fucked into a wall. Gladio would definitely never go for that.Right?





	1. Upsie Daisey

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a one-shot request on Tumblr, but ended up being it's own full project ;D Finally got off my lazy butt and posted the whole thing here. Hope you enjoy!

Every single time it’s the same. 

His broadsword is up in the air. Thick, powerful arms grip and swing it as if it weighed nothing, muscles tense, then Gladio is slamming the blade into the ground with enough force to knock the monsters around him off their feet (claws /hooves /tentacles /etc). As if  _that_  alone wasn’t enough of a show, he then waves Noct over. The Prince warps to him (also unfair) and Prompto watches mesmerized as he’s spun around and launched into the air. 

By Gladio’s bare hands. 

Just how  _fucking strong is this guy??_

That very question has plagued Prompto’s most inappropriate thoughts for weeks, ever since they left Insomnia and started out on this little adventure. Seeing all of his friends in action leaves him a bit speechless, but Gladio, he thinks, is in a class of his own. The brawn, the sheer  _force_ of him is enough to take Prom’s breath away in an instant, and on more than one occasion he’s all but blown his load inside his pants right then and there. The fact of the matter is, he wants to know what it’s like to be  _picked up_  and  _tossed_  like a rag doll, to be manhandled like toy in the meaty fists of the bulky bodyguard. 

To be more specific, he wants a taste of what those strong hands can really do against his body, preferably sans clothing and while fucking him into a mattress (or bedroll, or car seat, he isn’t picky). 

No one knows about his crush, of course. Not even Noct, who he’s less-than-subtly asked ‘What’s it like?’ in such a dreamy voice that the prince thought he was asking about flat-out sex. 

Point is, there’s no way Gladio could have known when he invited Prompto out for a hike that morning that the blonde had jerked off to the thought of his rippling muscles at least once a day since they left the Crown City. 

Pure, genuine coincidence. Honest. 

They’re near the foot of Ravatogh, and Gladio hears that a rare flower - one of Iris’ favorites - blooms there. Despite having promised to help him out that morning, Noct is still back in the tent with Iggy when Gladio convinces Prompto to join him. They start off with a light jog in relative silence, then Gladio gradually steers him in the direction of some large rocks. 

“Those are the ones. Think you can get up there and grab ‘em?” he asks, pointing out the purple petals of the flowers growing at the peak. 

Prompto tilts his head. “All the way up there? Without a chocobo?”

“Not unless we count you. Come on, I’ll even give you a boost up.”

“A…w-what? Hey, wait up!”

But Gladio is already moving, making his way over to the rocks and squatting down in front of them. He links his fingers between his knees and gestures with his chin for Prompto to hurry up. 

Prom swallows. It’s okay, he can do this. It’s just a quick lift up, not a reenactment of his deepest fantasies. No big deal. 

Except that  _it is_. The moment his boot is securely in Gladio’s grip he’s being flipped into the air like a pancake in a frying pan, the ground falling away as he goes up, up, up. Within the first second he’s already near the top of the rocks - only instinct has him reaching out for a hold in time - but he ends up tumbling right up and over the edge with the force of the momentum. 

Head spinning, heart racing, he rights himself into a sitting position in the grass. Several long heartbeats pass before he realizes he should probably be helping Gladio up, but by the time he turns around, he sees the bodyguard already pulling himself onto the plateau. With a huff and a laugh, Gladio lets himself collapse into the grass at his side. 

“That was fun.”

Prompto can’t speak. He’s staring down at Gladio’s bright grin and the few beads of sweat running down his face, and imagines licking them off. 

“Hey, Prom, you okay? I didn’t hurtcha, did I?”

Still no reponse. He might be broken, honestly, at least upstairs. His body, of course, seems to be working just fine - if the painfully hard erection he’s sporting in his lap is any sign. In his head, however, he’s down to a single track. 

_He did it. With his bare hands. That felt incredible!! So strong, he’s so strong and –_

“Prompto…? Buddy, hey, you gonna help me with these flowers or not?”

“Pound me.”

Gladio blinks. 

Prompto blinks. 

Gladio squints. “…What?”

“Huh?! I-I said ‘ _Sounds good to me!’_ Woohoo, flowers!”

He’s up on his feet and scrambling through the field of purple before Gladio can even snap his jaw shut. 


	2. I Liked It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gladio is tired of Prompto acting so skittish around him, so he digs a little deeper just to see what's got his stomach in a knot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two are made for each other I freaking swear.

Prompto is acting weird, no two ways about it. **  
**

And not like an  _everyday_ kind of weird, which Prompto usually is and which Gladio adores about him, but  _distant_ weird. Ever since they came back that morning from their hike, the blonde has hardly said three words to him (which amounted to a hurried  _‘Here ya go’_  as he’d handed over the flowers he’d picked).

On top of that, Prompto’s clearly avoiding him. Dodging out of his way, not making eye contact, hiding out in the tent faking a stomachache. Childish things that remind him of when Iris was younger and got mad at him for breaking her toys.

But Prompto isn’t a child, and Gladio isn’t sure how to handle being given the cold shoulder like this. He prefers to deal with problems head on, always has. How can he do that when the blonde is ducking out of sight at every corner?

The chance to talk finally comes after they’ve packed up camp. Noct is carrying the lightest of the bags, mostly containing clothes and the like, while Ignis and Prompto grab the chairs, the cooler, and the table between them. Gladio is left with the tent, which he’s got slung over his shoulder, and the heaviest of their bags weighing down each hand. Still, he makes it look easy. While the other two can’t seem to care less, he’s caught Prompto’s bright baby blues flicking back to him every so often, flushing as he takes in the sight and then looking away again just as quickly.

It’s  _weird_ , and Gladio can’t keep his mouth shut any longer.

“Hey, Prom,” he says in a voice loud enough to grab the blonde’s attention, but not to send him into a panic. “C’mere a sec.”

Prompto nearly trips over his feet in his hurry to turn around (so much for not panicking him). He pawns the table off on Ignis with an apologetic look, then shuffles in place for a moment while he waits for Gladio to catch up. “What’s up?” he asks in a strained voice, gaze locked somewhere in the vicinity of Gladio’s knees.

The Shield frowns. “You tell me, chocobo. You’ve been acting jumpy all morning. Did I do something wrong?”

Blue eyes go wide and finally Prompto dares to look up. Big mistake. The sight of Gladio’s muscles tensing as he shifts the weight of the tent from one shoulder to the other sends the blonde’s heart pounding. “U-um.” Oh, right, he was asked a question. “No! Of course not, big guy. No problems here, everything’s just peachy!”

“Uh-huh. Was it something about the hike? Are you mad I asked you to go with me?”

Prompto’s cheeks redden and he fidgets with a cord on the chair he’s carrying. “No way, I was glad you asked….”

“Then what? The flowers? Did I hurt you going up the cliff?”

There’s no answer, at least not a clear one. But from the way the blonde’s entire face lights up like a Moogle nose at a carnival, Gladio knows he’s getting close. “Okay. The cliff. What, you were scared?”

A frantic shake of the blonde’s head, and he flushes a deeper shade of red. “You were embarrassed, then?” More head shaking, more blushing. “You hated it?”

“I liked it.”

His voice is quiet. So quiet that Gladio isn’t sure he heard him correctly. It isn’t the first time - same thing happened earlier that day, even - but at this point, he can’t just let it go. “Come again?”

“I….” Prompto swallows, adjusts the chairs in his arms and shoots a cautious glance at Iggy and Noct way ahead of them. “I  _liked_ it, Gladio.”

“You…liked it.”

The silence between them is palpable, throbbing with the erratic pounding of Prompto’s heart in his chest and the ticking of gears in Gladio’s mind. _Liked it. As in…turned on by…?_ The Shield has a hard time processing that for a moment. But while he’s struggling, Prompto’s sweaty palms finally betray him and the chairs go tumbling from his grip.

_Clang, clash, bang._  Even Ignis turns around at the commotion (then, upon realizing it’s merely the ogre and the klutz, continues out of sight around the bend after Noct). Prompto immediately scrambles to grab the chairs, but Gladio, released from his temporary paralysis, beats him to the chase. He scoops both up in a single arm with ease, straightens his back, and opens his mouth to resume the conversation…

…But stops ultimately short when he sees the look Prompto is giving him. Or, rather, the look he’s giving his  _body_. Cheeks flushed, lips parted, eyebrows drawn into a pained knot and his eyes, his eyes so round and bright and full of unmistakable hunger. Gladio imagines it’s the way a man might look at a glass of water after wandering a desert for weeks.

Everything clicks into place. He’s surprised, yeah, and a little flattered. Mostly shocked, though, because he never imagined Prompto’s tastes ran so…rugged. How long had the kid felt it? Why had he bothered to hold it back?

“Hey. Be honest with me for a second,” Gladio says slowly, carefully. In front of him, Prompto tears his focus away from Gladio’s pecs long enough to meet his gaze and… _oh yeah,_  he just licked his lips. “Do the other guys know?”

Blue eyes falter for a split second. “No.”

“I won’t tell them,” Gladio assures him, once again shifting the heavy objects in his arms. He really regrets not waiting to at least get to the car before having this talk. “Is there anything I can do? To help, I mean.”

Prompto nearly bursts out laughing right there on the spot. Is there anything Gladio can do?! Is he for real?!  _Hold me,_  he thinks, chest aching with need.  _Squeeze me, shove me down, pound me through a mattress! Fuck me ‘til I can’t walk straight! Manhandle me, for fucks sake!_

“Prom?”

“Can you…carry this?” he asks instead, face hot with embarrassment while his thoughts rampage. Gladio is already holding the two chairs, but manages not to roll his eyes when Prompto hands over the cooler as well. There’s something in his smile - shy, yet serious - that has Gladio playing right along. Now with literally half of their camping gear piled up in his arms, he takes the lead in guiding Prompto back to the car. Though the blonde says little along the way, his eyes say  _everything_.

And for his part, Gladio is pretty sure he digs the attention.  

“Hurry it up!”

That’s Noct’s voice calling to them from the backseat of the Regalia. As they near the car, it’s obvious that he and Iggy have already finished packing up their things and are waiting impatiently for the other two to arrive. Prompto starts to rush on ahead, but Gladio, overburdened as he is, can’t quite keep up. The blonde takes a few gallops forward, glances back, and skids to a halt.  

“Oh, sorry, big guy. Lemme give you a ha –”

“Nah, I got it,” Gladio says, flashing him a grin so cocky it snatches his breath away. “What’s the point in looking this good if I can’t pull my weight?”

Prompto gulps -  _hard_ \- and nods his head as if to say, _‘Good point._ ’ Matters get worse when Ignis pops the trunk open for them. Gladio at least allows Prompto to lift the door all the way up, but the rest he insists on doing himself; shuffling the cooler, the bags, the chairs, the tent one by one into the back of the car, pushing them in with more force than is really necessary. Straining his muscles a little for added effect. He notices it’s working when he glances over to find that Prompto is watching the show with his knuckles shoved between his teeth, biting back a whine.

“ _Today_ , gentlemen,” comes Iggy’s warning from inside the car, and Gladio can’t hold back another grin.

“Yeah, yeah. You heard him, Princess.”

“…P-princess…?  _Woah!”_ Anything else Prompto could have said is lost in a startled gasp as Gladio’s arms - _those massive, tattoo-covered lethal weapons_ \- suddenly latch around his upper body. A rough jaw scratches his ear, a chuckle rumbles against his back, and then he’s being hoisted up off the ground like spare baggage. It’s terrifying. It’s thrilling. And he hopes to the gods no one notices the way he’s suddenly rock-hard in his pants.

“In the car ya go.” Prompto hadn’t even noticed they’d been moving, but now Gladio’s lifting him up and over the passenger side door and dropping him into the seat without so much as a warning. He exhales when he hits, bounces once, manages to catch hold of the dash to keep his balance. When he rights himself to throw Gladio a glare, he sees the Shield wink -  _actually wink!_ \- at him on the way to the back.

_Is he dreaming? Is he dead?_ Or could it be possible that Gladio is  _teasing_ him?

Heart thudding, he misses the disapproving look Ignis shoots the rearview mirror - and then they’re taking off.

All Prompto can hope for is lucking out on a hotel that night, because he’s going to need a long, cold shower all to himself. For at least half an hour.

He suddenly recalls the feeling of Gladio’s beard scratching up against his sensitive skin.

…Better make that forty-five minutes.


	3. Some Kinks to Work Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pit stop at a motel and some time alone gives Prompto and Gladio the perfect chance to work out some kinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut ;)

The water hits the tiles in a puff of steam, and Prompto groans at the sight - never in his life has something as simple as a shower looked so heavenly. Peeling off his jeans (which cling to his skin in a mix of sweat and blood and probably bug guts), he tosses them onto the floor with the rest of his clothing for Ignis to wash later.

Right now, he has much more important matters to think about.

Stepping under the steaming water, Prompto lets the day’s stress drain out of him. It’s been a particularly long one, involving a lost shipment and a truck stuck in the woods…surrounded, of course, by giants bees, because why not. To make things worse (although giant bees is about as bad as it gets already), it turned out the truck itself was full of nothing but beans. Just…beans. After quelling the monsters, Noct was in such a bad mood over the bounty that he sulked the whole way back to Lestallum, in the front seat where Iggy could listen to his complaints.

Leaving Prompto in the back next to the one distraction he didn’t need right now.

_“Gladio.”_  The name rolls off his tongue in a whisper, drowned out by the hissing of the shower. Barely audible yet still potent. His forehead is against the tiles and his fist around his cock within seconds.

Nothing he does can get the sight of that powerful body out of his thoughts. Muscles rippling as Gladio charges into the fray. His heavy sword slicing the bees clean in two - looking so good that even the mental image of bug juice splattering the grass at his feet isn’t enough to kill his boner.

No, he’s too busy picturing Gladio in all his glory. Amber eyes wild with the hunt, his voice booming out into the frantic air. Prompto gasps and pumps himself faster, harder, imagining it’s the Shield‘s rough, calloused hands gripping him instead. Rocks his hips into the pleasure and wonders how it would feel being fucked right up against the tiles. Amazing, no doubt. He knows Gladio’s cock is massive, has seen it stuffed inside his briefs when they sleep. Can only dream about how it would feel ramming into him, splitting him in half just like those damn bees and - - .

“Fu- _uuck—_!!!”

Prompto’s cry is louder than intended, but there’s no way he can hold back the full force of his orgasm. Not when it’s tearing through him hard enough to blur his vision. He shudders and rocks into his fist, spills out between his fingers and lets the evidence wash down the drain along with his tension.

When at last he can straighten his back, he feels…good. Really good, like go-out-and-face-his-friends-without-feeling-guilty good. Gladio might be onto his dirty little secret, but so long as he can hide his urges around Noct and Iggy then no one else has to find out.

Quickly washing his hair and rinsing off, Prompto steps out of the shower and into a fluffy white towel that says  _Leville_  on both ends. He wraps it tight, runs a comb back through his sopping locks. Checks himself in the mirror - not too red, not too obvious - before heading back out to the main hotel room.

His friends haven’t moved from where he left them. Noct is on the bed engrossed in another level of King’s Knight. Iggy is reading a magazine in the arm chair. And Gladio is out on the balcony, still chatting with Iris on his phone.

As soon as he catches sight of Prom, he quickly ends the conversation and hangs up. “Cool, it’s about time,” he says and smacks the blonde on his bare back. “Leave any hot water for me?”

“Um, yeah, ‘course I did.”  _Oh, gods, please let that be all I left in there._  “I might have grabbed the last bath towel, though.”

“No prob. Don’t have too much fun out here without me.” Flashing a toothy grin to Ignis (who rolls his eyes and promptly goes back to reading his magazine), Gladio starts peeling off his clothes before he even reaches the bathroom.

Prompto doesn’t even realize he’s been staring so obviously until Iggy clears his throat.

“Have a seat, Prompto, before you trip over your jaw.”

The shower helps Gladio clear his mind. With the hot water pounding against his skin, it’s easy to let go of his concerns, his problems, all the near-misses from the day’s hunt. It eases the aches in his body and washes away the grime from his skin. By the time he’s finished scrubbing off, he feels almost like a new man.

Camping is great, of course, but there’s something to be said for a hot shower after a long day.

Battle and beans aside, he thinks back to that morning and the pre-dawn hike that started it all. He remembers the look on Prompto’s face when he tossed him up over the edge of the cliff, the stammering recovery after his slip-up ( _“Pound me,”_  he’d said. And yeah, now Gladio is pretty sure that he heard him correctly the first time). His confession about his attraction to bulging muscles and…perhaps more than anything, the way he’d felt in his arms when Gladio had lifted him into the car.

Picking people up is second nature to him. He never puts much thought into it, aside from the situational practicality (or in some cases, just teasing his sister). But something about holding Prompto, knowing what being handled like that did to him - even Gladio finds it a surprising turn-on. If he can get the blonde that flustered with his hands, just think what he could do with the rest of his body!

Gladio catches himself grinning in the mirror and shakes his head. Standing in here and merely thinking about Prompto - it isn’t getting him anywhere. He hasn’t decided yet how far he wants to take this, but the only way to find out is to try.

Snagging a hand towel off the rack, Gladio shakes out his hair once and steps out of the bath.

…Right into the middle of a match.

“Ugh! Fell again!”

“Hahaha! Dude, you are the worst at this game.”

“I dare say Prompto and I could beat this level faster without you, Noct.”

“Just…gimme a second! I’m outta Kingstones….”

Gladio smirks as he approaches the back of yellow hair. “Thought I said not to have fun without me.”

Prompto whirls around - and comes face to…well,  _crotch_. Gladio’s crotch, specifically, which is so comically not-covered by the skimpy towel around his waist that it should be illegal. It probably is illegal in some parts of Eos, actually. The blonde draws his gaze slowly,  _slowly_ up the slick, chiseled body mere inches away from him until he finally reaches Gladio’s eyes. He doesn’t even remember how to breathe anymore.

“Noct,” comes Ignis’ voice from somewhere outside Prompto’s range of focus. “Would you give me a hand with the laundry?”

“Huh? Why me?” But Iggy’s already tugging him up by his wrist and making purposefully for the door. Noct looks at Prom - who is too spaced out to notice - then shrugs and tucks his phone in his back pocket. “Whatever. Game was getting lame anyway.”

They leave the room quickly, Ignis casting one final glare at Gladio before shutting the door with a polite bang.

The sound is what has Prompto blinking to life again. “O-oh. Where’d they go…?”

“Who cares. On the bed.”

“W-what?!”

“Bed, chocobo. This one’ll do.” He gestures to the spot where Noct had been playing earlier, and Prompto scrambles up onto the mattress before he has to be told again. Inside his head, his thoughts are running wild:  _what’s happening?!  Why is he looking at me like that?! He’s not gonna….IS HE?!_ But that panicked voice in his mind is silenced the moment Gladio sits down on the edge of the mattress and taps his shoulder.

“Got a pretty stiff neck, think you can work the kinks out for me?”

_Oh, I got a lot of kinks I could work out on you, big guy._

“Yeah! Sure thing, dude!” Cracking his knuckles, Prompto sinks onto his knees behind Gladio’s expansive back. He can’t resist drinking in the sight for a moment - all those dense muscles beneath dark black ink - then delicately fans his fingers out over Gladio’s shoulder blades.

“Don’t go easy on me, yeah?”

“Right.” Voice hushed, awed, Prompto sets to work massaging every inch of bronzed neck and shoulders he can find. He pushes in with his thumbs and smooths out the pain under the heels of his palm. Strokes his nails distractingly along the ridge of Gladio’s spine and feels him genuinely shudder under the touch. It’s mesmerizing, really, watching his own fingers move so intimately over the body he’s fantasized about for so long. And to know Gladio is enjoying it as much as him….

“ _Mmmm_ , damn, Prom. Where’d you learn to do this?” The Shield leans back a little into a particularly deep knead. “Mind if I stretch out on the bed?”

“Oh, um. Well, if you – ?“ But Gladio is already moving. He grins at Prompto as he turns around - not bothering, of course, to hide the evidence of his appreciation swelling underneath his towel.

Prompto gulps. It’s even bigger than he had imagined.

“Get the lower half, too, will ya?” he asks as he settles back down, this time on his stomach with his face pillowed comfortably on his forearms. The position muffles his voice slightly, but it gives Prompto an unobstructed view of his back from head to heel. “I promise to return the favor later.”

Absolutely certain they’re already both getting something out of this, Prompto nods silently and moves into position. He’s got his knees on either side of Gladio’s left thigh, can feel the heat of his body swirling up around him and it takes every ounce of self control he possesses to keep from grinding down against bare flesh.

Prompto starts at his mid-back. Kneads and rubs his fingers in slow circles until he feels the muscles relaxing little by little under the touch.  _Lower_ , Gladio keeps groaning.  _Lower_. So Prompto obeys. His fingers are dangerously close to the hem of the towel and still Gladio urges him on.  _Lower, Prom._  The blonde takes a deep breath. Screws his eyes shut and forces himself to go for it - he clamps the fingers of each hand around one ass cheek a piece and squeezes.  _Hard_.

The sound Gladio makes goes straight to Prompto’s cock. He forces his eyes open and looks down, shudders at the sight of his pale fingers clutching at perfect bronzed mounds and nearly lets out a moan himself.

“Oh, fuck.”

_“Prompto.”_

“I just…. I can’t…. I need to….”

_“Prom, don’t stop.”_

“Ohgodsohgods.”

Massaging Gladio’s ass is a privilege he never even dreamed of having one day. The way it moulds to the curve of his palm, or bounces back into place when he spreads the cheeks apart is simultaneously stopping his heart and sending it racing. He’s already moved the towel aside, giving himself access to the perfect view, from the supple base at the back of toned thighs to the darker skin running up the shadows of the cleft. He wants to worship  _all of it._

Prompto’s stops thinking with his brain, and lets his dick call the shots instead.

The first hot breath against his skin has Gladio jolting to attention. Then comes the warmth of lips and the scrape of teeth. Prompto moves from one cheek to the other, nipping, licking, moaning around mouthfuls of firm ass, savoring the taste, the texture.

But the moment he actually bites down, teeth digging in so hard they leave marks in a perfect circle on Gladio’s right glute, the Shield growls and counters. Whirling around, he flips Prompto onto his back on the bed, grinds his painfully hard erection against the blonde’s hip, and clamps his mouth onto the pale curve of exposed throat.

Prompto lets out such a needy moan it has Gladio’s cock throbbing in sympathy. “Fuck,  _fuck!_ Yes! Oh _gooods,_  Gladio!”

Teeth rake over delicate skin, and the Shield responds with another pleased snarl. He isn’t thinking anymore, isn’t bothered by the fact that the body he’s got pinned to the bed (and is ready to fuck senseless) belongs to Prompto, his friend, and the friend of his prince. All he cares about is how good he tastes, how eager and willing he is writhing beneath him, and how badly he wants to hear more of those desperate pleas.

“Tell me you want it,” he growls into Prompto’s neck, loving the way his entire body shudders at the words.

“Y-yeah,  _fuck yeah,_  I  _need_ it! I want you to break me, Gladdy!”

“You gonna take my whole cock like a good boy?”

_“Yes! Yes! Please!”_ Prompto emphasizes his need with a well-aimed roll of his hips, pulling a groan from the larger man above him. “Fuck me, I’m all yours!”

Over the volume of Prompto’s cries, he almost misses the  _other_ sounds from outside the room: the footsteps, the voices, the jingling of keys. Suddenly his heart stops beating in his chest, and he reluctantly pulls away from the blonde’s neck.

“W-what…?”

“Get dressed, kid, hurry.”

Gladio is already off the bed and hopping into his sleep pants when the key slides into the lock and starts to turn. Prompto realizes too late what’s happening, barely manages to throw himself off the bed onto the floor before Ignis and Noct are stepping into the room.

“For the last time, cookies are not dinner.”

“They will be when I’m King.”

“Noct….” Mid-sigh, Iggy finally looks around the room to see Gladio sitting casually in the arm chair, legs folded and face half-hidden behind a magazine. Which wouldn’t be suspicious except that his hair is a mess and the magazine he’s “reading” is upside down.

“Where’s Prom?” Noct asks as he steps around Iggy’s form and pulls out his phone again. “I got some more Kingstones.”

“R-right here, buddy!” Prompto pops his head up from between the two beds and waves. Ignis merely narrows his eyes at them both.

The next two hours are an agonizing exercise in patience. Though Gladio’s erection has flagged, the desire to get Prompto back under him still pulses within his veins. He catches the blonde looking at him every so often, eyes dark and full of promise whenever he pulls them away from his game. For the both of them, bedtime can’t come quickly enough.

As expected, Noct is the first to fall asleep. Ignis is up a while longer, folding their laundry and repacking their suitcases with almost frustrating care. Gladio and Prompto fake going to bed long before him, laying mere inches apart, forcing their hands still while they wait for him to slip under the sheets at Noct’s side. At last Iggy’s head hits the pillow, and within minutes the soft sounds of his slowed breathing fill the room.

Gladio makes his move first. He’s scooping Prompto into his arms and pressed up against his back in a heartbeat, lips stretching into a grin as their patience finally pays off. “Thought he’d never go to sleep,” he whispers into the blonde’s ear, and earns a shuddering nod in reply. “Too bad I won’t be able to hear your pretty voice though.”

Blue eyes turn back to him in question. “Do you still want to…?”

“Fuck you? Damn right. But…,” he trails off, letting his eyes speak for him as he glances at the sleeping forms of their two friends across the room. “What I wanna do to you - and what I’m pretty sure you want me to do - isn’t gonna happen while they’re around.”

Prompto sighs, sinks further back in Gladio’s arms to feel the warmth of his chest. “Damn. So now what?”

“Oh. I still have some ideas.” Those teeth flash in the dark as Gladio trails one hand down to the front of Prompto’s boxers, wasting no time in cupping his palm around the weight he finds there. “You cool?”

A pleading nod. Prompto’s cock jolts for emphasis, and then Gladio’s hand is inside his clothes, rubbing his heated skin to full hardness while Prompto muffles his moans with his own fist.

Those rough, calloused fingers feel even more incredible than he had imagined in his wildest fantasies. They wrap around him tight, squeezing him with every long, purposeful stroke. Gladio’s thumb teases his foreskin, occasionally dagging it up over the head and rubbing in rapid circles.

“Like that?” he hums into his ear.

_“Mmhmmmm!”_

“Gods, you’re so wet. That all for me?” Another quiet, warbling moan as Gladio swipes his thumb through the generous amount of slick pooling at the tip of Prompto’s cock. Moans himself as a different thought occurs to him. “Bet you taste real sweet, huh, chocobo.”

“G-Glad- _dyyy…!”_

“Are you gonna come for me? Gonna show me your pretty face when you let go?”

As if that alone isn’t enough to push Prompto right off the edge, Gladio chooses that moment to grind his own hard cock right into the cleft of his ass. Prompto bites back a cry, grips the thick arm around his chest, and bursts his climax in hot, desperate ropes over Gladio’s fist.

For some time, The Shield continues to rock against him. Slow, languid thrusts that have his dick sliding over every inch of his ass, making Prompto feel each pulse of his heartbeat even through his boxers. Maybe Gladio comes, maybe he doesn’t - Prompto falls into a sated sleep before he can find out.

In the other bed, green eyes roll, and Ignis hugs impossibly closer to Noct’s frame against him.


	4. Wet that Appetite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thirst is _real_ , and it's got Prompto looking for any excuse to get Gladio alone with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moooore smuuuut ;)))

Prompto is tired. Prompto is cranky. Prompto has been blue balling for almost a week and if he has to hear Iggy tell Noct to turn the rod towards the fish one more time he’s going to throw himself right into the lake.

Beside him, Gladio appears to be faring little better. He’s been tapping his phone screen irritably for the past five minutes, shifting on his feet and shooting his prince the occasional death glare. They’ve been hanging around the pier for hours -  _hours_ \- while Noct hunts for some “legendary” trout.  _Legendarily stupid,_  Prompto thinks.

“Any chance we’re almost done here, Princess?” Gladio pockets his phone as he takes a step toward the end of the pier. “Pretty sure you’ve fished this place dry by now.”

Noct waves a hand over his shoulder, his eyes never leaving the surface of the lake. “Oh, he’s out there, I can feel it. Why, you bored?”

“Some of us just got more important things to do with our time,” comes the reply grumbled under Gladio’s breath. He retreats back to Prom’s side, pulling his phone back out of his pocket as he goes. Types something onto the screen, then holds it out to the side, text pointed in the blond’s general direction.

Prompto risks a glance.  _Say ur going to piss,_  it reads, followed by an arrow that seems to indicate the woods behind them. Gladio’s eyes aren’t watching him, but from the way he casually pulls his phone back, it’s clear he expects the message got through.

“Um. Iggy?” Prompto clears his throat, his limbs slowly catching up with the gears turning in his mind. He hops from one foot to the other, shoves his hands in his pockets and twists his face up convincingly by the time Ignis glances back at him. “Sorry, can I just…? I’m gonna burst if I don’t go, like, _right now.”_

“Whatever keeps you from soiling those jeans. But stay close,” Iggy advises with a  _look_. “This area may not be safe alone.”

They couldn’t have asked for a more perfect opening. “I’d better go, too, then,” Gladio shrugs, feigning annoyance. “In case something decides to make a snack out of blondie.”

Ignis says nothing. Merely narrows his eyes at the Shield for a long moment before turning away from the both of them. It seems as if Noctis has just snagged another bite - giving Prompto and Gladio their chance. Prom takes off, a large hand grabs his arm, and the two race each other to the edge of the woods at breakneck speed.

Even then it feels as if they can’t get out of sight fast enough. The second Prompto is safely behind the cover of trees, Gladio is slamming him up against the nearest one and kissing him hard. The crush of lips and scrape of teeth against his is exactly what he’s been craving, and it’s as refreshing to him as a cool breeze on a summer day in Lestallum.

Gladio growls something into his mouth. He can’t quite understand, but the fingers digging into his hips read loud and clear.  _Need you,_  they say, and Prompto is all too eager to comply.

But out here, like this, their options are sorely limited. While Gladio continues to paw at the hem of his jeans, Prompto considers his next move carefully.

“B-big guy. Hey, s-slow down a sec.” It takes some effort, but he manages to wrangle out of Gladio’s grasp enough to get a good look at him: sweat beading his brow, pupils blown within a sea of deep amber, lips slick and swollen from their kiss. He’s still so close Prompto can feel the heat rolling off of his skin and  _goddamn_ he’s weak to this!

“Change your mind, chocobo?” Gladio taunts with a grin. His fingers ghost over the very obvious bulge in Prompto’s pants, making it clear he knows exactly how bad they both want this.

The blond shakes his head. “No way! I just….” With a quick glance over his shoulder at the lake behind him, he lowers his voice. “I wanted to ask if I could, y’know, suck you off.”

Dark eyebrows raise several inches. Gladio struggles for a moment - he’s never been  _asked_ before, and isn’t sure if he should respond with a ‘fuck yes’ or just drop his pants - but then he remembers who he’s dealing with: Prompto, who has never learned to trust himself. Who has a thing for muscles and authority. Who is looking at him with such hunger in his eyes that Gladio can’t bear to deny him a second longer.

He smirks, throwing one hand to his belt to start on the buckle even as his other cards back through blond locks. Gentle, reverent, adoring - until his fingers clench around a fistful of hair and he shoves Prompto onto his knees between him and the tree. “Be my guest.”

The move has the desired effect. Baby blues glaze over with lust, and before Gladio has even finished undoing his belt, Prompto’s fingers are unzipping his jeans and reaching in for the prize. There’s a low moan in Prom’s throat the second he touches that hot, pulsing flesh, and his cheeks flush a telling crimson as he draws Gladio’s cock out into the air. Thick, solid,  _huge_ \- it weighs in his hand and for a moment all he can do is stare at it, admire it, before wetting his lips with his tongue. Gladio groans in appreciation at the sight. Rocks forward to press the head of his dick to that pretty mouth, silently urging Prompto to open up for him. A flash of red, Prom’s tongue flicks out over the tip, and then the blond is moaning as he slides his lips down over heated flesh.

And  _fuck_ does it feel good. Surrounded by Gladio’s scent, his taste, his smell, the weight of his cock filling his mouth fast, faster than he expected and there’s a thrill in that as well. The shield waits a few moments for Prompto to adjust, but then he’s starting to move in long, shallow thrusts into inviting warmth. Another moan that reverberates through Gladio’s very core, and he begins rocking harder. Twists his fingers in Prompto’s hair to hold him in place while he builds momentum.  

Prompto’s eyes roll back. His jaw goes slack and his throat opens up. His hands fly up to chiseled hips and grip Gladio tight, not as a warning but merely to ground himself while his mouth is fucked raw.  _Faster_ , he tries to beg, nails clawing at bronzed skin. _Harder, deeper!_  Prompto tightens his lips and uses his tongue to coax Gladio further back in his throat, even as his nose brushes against the dark coarse hairs at the base.  _Ohgods, don’t stop!_

“Prompto, fuck…!” Gladio’s free hand slams into the tree a few feet above Prom’s head, and he leans forward into it. By now, his hips are pumping on their own volition, unstoppable as the pleasure mounts in his gut. All it takes is one glance down, seeing his cock disappearing between red lips stretched tight below heavy-lidded blue eyes, to do it for him. A hitched growl is the only warning he gives before he’s coming, hot and hard and deep in the cavern of Prompto’s perfect throat.

The blond shudders. His mouth fills with the taste of Gladio’s bitter cum, and his eyes sting with tears at the effort of not spilling a drop of it. For several moments he can’t breathe, can’t move, lets the power of Gladio’s orgasm hold him in place. But then that thick cock is sliding back out over his lips, drawing out some of the white milky sex in its wake, and Prompto at last sucks in a breath.

He feels dizzy, lightheaded. All over, his skin is buzzing with energy. And he thinks, as Gladio sinks down onto his knees next to him and buries his face in the side of his neck, that the shield isn’t the only one who got off on that. A quick glance at his lap - and the wet stain in the front of his dark jeans - confirms it. If his throat didn’t feel like gravel, he might have laughed at himself.

“Fucking  _Six_ , Prom. You okay?”

_“Mmm.”_

“That was…. I mean,  _shit_ , where did you…?”

Another soft hum. Without really thinking, Prompto brings his hand up, wipes a dribble of cum from his bottom lip and slides it back into his mouth as he regards Gladio’s sweat-drenched brow. “We should go back,” he says in a voice far too husky to be his own. “Iggy’s gonna get suspicious.”

“But you…?” Amber eyes flash down, take in the sight of Prompto’s unmistakably wet jeans and his eyes go wide. “Nevermind. Gimme your hand.”

This time, the blond appreciates Gladio’s strength for it’s practical purposes as well. If not for the firm hand holding him steady (the same hand that had, until moments ago, been forcing his head further down his cock), Prompto would likely topple right over. As it is, he finds himself leaning against Gladio’s chest for balance, face growing warm at the intimacy with which he’s being held.

The last thing he expects is another kiss. But suddenly it’s happening, just before darting out from the cover of the woods - Gladio tilts his chin up, presses their lips together (not caring, apparently, that Prompto tastes like his own dick) and pulls him impossibly closer. It leaves Prompto utterly stunned.

Which…seems to have been the point. When Gladio pulls away again, he’s grinning like a dope, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the freckles on Prompto’s cheek. “Hey,” he says, gesturing with his eyes to the stain in the front of dark jeans. “What are you gonna do about that?”

“Huh…? Oh.”  _Right_. As if they haven’t already been gone long enough to raise questions, there is no way Iggy and Noct won’t notice this rather large, and rather embarrassing, piece of evidence. Sure, he could write it off as any number of things, each one more humiliating than the last, but he’d rather avoid the issue altogether.

Gladio chuckles as he smirks again. “Got an idea. Consider it a ‘thank you’ until I can return the favor for that blowjob.”

* * *

Noctis has just reeled in yet another bluegill. The disappointment on his face is matched only by the smirk written on Iggy’s as he tries, and fails, to conceal his amusement.

“Perhaps we can try again tomorrow,” he laughs and pats the prince’s arm. As Noct tosses the poor fish back into the water, the sound of Prompto and Gladio’s approach catches them both by surprise.

_“Outta the way!”_

Like an anak stampede, Gladio comes charging up to the pier with a ferocious grin plastered to his face. On his back, pale arms wrapped tight around muscular shoulders, Prompto is squealing - whether in excitement or terror (or both), neither Iggy nor Noct can tell. They barely have enough time to dive out of his path before Gladio is tearing past them, laughing even as he starts to launch Prompto into the air. The blond shrieks, flails, and goes soaring up over Gladio’s head to do an impressive series of somersaults before falling ass-first into the lake.

No sooner does he reappear, splashing and sputtering at the surface, than Gladio is diving in after him, his large arms scooping him up and dunking him again.

Prompto is definitely laughing now, Noct is sure of it. He watches in a mixture of disbelief and confusion as his best friend strikes back, using his full weight to tackle Gladio into the water, over and over again. Until they’re both thoroughly soaked and grinning like the idiots they are. When the hell did they start getting along?

“Come on in, buddy,” Prompto calls up to him between bouts of laughter. “The water’s fine!”

“You guys are lucky there aren’t any piranhas in there.”

Ignis scoffs. “I think that would be quite an entertaining show.”

“Aww, Iggy…!” But Prompto’s pout is cut short as Gladio knocks him over again. Wrestling match resumed, Ignis and Noct can only roll their eyes in perfect sync. They grab the tackle box and turn to head back to the car, unaware that just below the surface of the water, their friends’ lips are once more locked together in a kiss that neither one wants to break.


	5. The Climax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At long last, a night of uninterrupted fun awaits Prompto and Gladio at the Three Zs Motel. The question is, which will succumb first - Gladio's impressive stamina, or the furniture in the room?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much smut I can't believe I wrote this aahhh xD  
> *whispers* Yes, I can

The Three Zs motel is certainly not Prompto’s first choice for accommodation. It isn’t even his second, or his third, but it  _does_ beat camping again for the sixth night in a row.

After leaving the Vesperpool, their journey took the four friends on a winding course from Cleigne all the way back to the dusty valleys of Leide. Along the way, they had picked up a number of hunts as well as pieces of some stupid treasure map that Noctis insisted on completing. The weather, too, had not been kind to them, and every night was spent cramped and shivering in the rain-soaked tent.

For what it was worth, Gladio’s presence did help to relieve some of the tension. His hands were always warm beneath the thin bed roll, his lips against the back of Prom’s neck even more so. And though they had to be careful (and quiet) with their friends sleeping so close by, they had gotten through the long nights with more than a little hands-on action: sleep shorts pushed down to their thighs, fingers wrapped around each other’s throbbing flesh, hushed moans and panted breaths swallowed up in the space between them.

He’s still not entirely used to the idea that his affections (or at least his urges) are being returned so readily. Yet Prompto knows better than to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially one as hot and good with his hands as Gladio. So when Ignis announces the brief respite at an  _actual_ motel with  _actual_ beds, Prompto’s mind is immediately racing with ideas.

First, though, he’ll have to think of a way to get Noct and Iggy out of the room for a while.

“Welcome back, boys,” says the perky, middle-aged woman behind the counter. “Here for the night?”

Prompto’s distracted, wondering if sending his two friends out for take-away would buy him enough time alone with Gladio. Probably not.

“That’s right,” he hears Ignis reply.

“Just the one room again?”

Maybe if he fakes a stomachache, he can convince them to….

“Two rooms, actually, if you have them.”

…vacate the –  _Wait a minute._  What did Ignis just say?

Noctis, apparently, is just as surprised as Prom. He leans away from the window, close to Iggy’s ear. “Hey, you sure about that, Specs?”

“Do I appear  _un_ sure to you, Highness?”

“Well, no, but.” The prince gulps, glancing around at the three of them as he lowers his voice. “Can we really afford it?”

“The proceeds from the hunts we’ve collected on are more than enough to cover the additional expenses. And if this is the only way for me to get a decent night’s rest, then I’m willing to bloody  _splurge_.”  

Behind him, Gladio and Prompto exchange nervous looks.

But the woman at the counter seems unfazed as she hands over two sets of keys and four bath towels. Prompto and Noct end up carrying the latter, and Ignis all but shoves the second set of keys at Gladio’s chest. “ _You two_  may have the corner room. See you in the morning, and hopefully not before.”

Then, without another word, he takes off toward his own room with Noct in tow.

Prompto’s jaw practically unhinges. “Well. That was rude.”

“Eh. He gets pissy when he hasn’t been getting his beauty sleep. Should be fine by tomorrow.”

“Y-yeah, but. Do you think…he knows about…?”

A shrug. “Maybe. Who cares. He won’t say anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Gladio leans down close to the blond’s ear as his voice drops to a whisper. “Not since I found out about his little crush on the prince.”

While the gears in Prompto’s head are still struggling to process that piece of information, the two of them arrive at the door to their room. Gladio turns the lock with a  _click_ and pushes it open - but before Prompto can step past him inside, he’s being scooped up in massive arms and lifted right off the ground.

He lands against Gladio’s chest with a yelp. “W-w-w-what are you doing?!”

Gladio, not missing a beat, grins his reply. “Carrying you into our honeymoon suite, duh.”

“B-but! W-what if someone gets the wrong idea! ‘S not like we’re married or anything!”

Rough stubble tickles his chin. Warm breath against his ear has him going as limp as Gladio’s favorite noodles in his strong arms. “Maybe not. But we’re still about to consummate the fuck outta this.”

_“O-oohhh…!”_

Whatever ‘this’ happens to be for them, Prom is pretty sure the consummating bit is overdue by at least a couple weeks. Now, with the entire night miraculously to themselves, he fully intends to make up for lost time. Still whining low and needy in his throat, Prompto clings to broad shoulders as he’s carried over the threshold and into the darkness of their shared hotel room.

No sooner is the door slammed shut behind them than Gladio is tossing him bodily onto the nearest bed. Prompto bounces once, the breath knocked out of his lungs as a gasp, and goes tumbling back down just as the shield begins pulling off his tee.

Golden planes of skin. Lines of dark, swirling ink. Perfect nipples already standing at attention. Abs like a washboard, rugged and scarred.

“…You gonna watch, or you gonna get naked?” Amber eyes are locked on hungry blue. The tip of a red tongue flicks out over full lips, the movement sending a tidal wave of blood south to Prompto’s lap. He gulps, drags his eyes down the expanse of muscles and tats and tempting skin, and quickly shucks off his own jacket.

 _We’re really doing this_ , he thinks, as Gladio’s belt joins his shirt on the floor. Large fingers slowly work open the button of his faded jeans, and already Prompto’s beginning to salivate.  _This isn’t a dream! That dick is the real deal!_

Still mostly clothed and trembling, Prompto scoots suddenly to the edge of the bed and reaches out to run his fingers over those delicious abs. Under his touch the flesh is warm, soft and yet firm at the same time. With both hands he strokes over chiseled muscle, dips his thumbs into the loosened band of Gladio’s pants and begins to roll them down to reveal even more bronzed skin, a trail of dark hair. He’s forgotten how to breathe.

“Easy, there, chocobo,” comes the deep - and impossibly close - warning. Gladio curls his fingers around Prompto’s wrists, halting them in their tracks before he can get to the prize.

Instantly, round, blue eyes turn up to him in confusion. “But I thought…?”

“All in good time. First, we shower.”

“Aw….”

Those tempting lips pull back to reveal too many teeth. “I wanna watch you get ready for me.”

 _Oh._  Between his words, that feral, hungry grin, and the fingers tightening around his wrists, Prompto’s having trouble forming coherent words. “Um. Y-yeah. I’ll be right there,” he manages after a breathless moment.

“Try not to keep me waiting.” He’s kissed, rough and hard and full of promise, then Gladio turns away and starts for the bathroom, stripping out of his briefs on the way. The last things Prompto sees before he disappears out of sight are those two, perfect globes bouncing in time with every step.

Alone in the room, reality swallows Prompto up in its sobering grip. All his fantasies, all his filthy, shameful desires are about to come true, yet it feels somehow different than he expected. On one hand, yes, he’s in awe and his entire body is trembling with excitement and anticipation. But on the other, Gladio is no longer a stranger to him. He’s more than just a muscular hunk with a voice like the baritone of his wet dreams.

He’s…well… _Gladio_. And that, more than anything, has Prompto tearing off the rest of his clothes and dashing toward the bathroom as soon as he hears steaming water hitting the tiles.

The door, as well as the shower curtain, have both been left wide open for him in invitation. Gladio is right in front of him, his body bared and glistening wet as he lathers soap over his shoulder, along the curve of his bicep and down to his massive forearm. He hasn’t noticed Prompto’s arrival yet, back turned to him as it is, and the blond takes several heartbeats to simply admire the scene.

And to take a mental screenshot of those milky bubbles flowing down the crack of his ass. That’s gonna come in handy someday.

“Warmin’ up for me, big guy?” he half-jests as he takes a step closer to the shower. Gladio glances back, smirks.

“Took you long enough.” A hand streaks out. Slick fingers coil around his hip and tug him in under the stream of water, chest to chest with the hungry-eyed shield. “I told you not to keep me waiting.”

“But I came as fast as I –  _MMH!”_

The strike comes out of nowhere. Hard and loud and with deadly accuracy, leaving in its wake a perfect outline of Gladio’s hand on the soft, pale mound of his ass. Prompto sucks in a breath as his eyes flare wide.  _“Oh!”_

Another spank, this time across both cheeks, and the blond is sent arching forward into Gladio’s arms. His cry, high-pitched and desperate, echoes off the tiles, drowns out even the sound of the water cascading around them.

“You like that?” A frantic nod. “Good. Arms up, chocobo.” Not giving him a second to respond, Gladio spins Prompto around and presses him face-first against the cold wall. A moment later his wrists follow, pinned together above his head and leaving his back and rear ripe for his punishment. Again and again Gladio’s palm cracks across his ass, and again and again Prompto cries out, whines for  _more, more, ohgodsyesmore!_ Gladio’s hand is stinging but still he doesn’t stop, not until that pale skin is bright red and his own cock is so hard it aches.

Panting, trembling, Prompto sinks forward against the wall. His reprieve is brief, but he savors every heartbeat as waves of pleasure/pain surge through him. His ass hurts. His dick is throbbing with need between his parted thighs. His head is spinning and his arms feel like lead as he’s allowed to slowly drop them to his sides. Gladio kisses his shoulder - a fleeting touch, but it warms Prompto’s bones as well as his heart - before he puts distance between them with a large step back.

“Show me how bad you want my cock,” he orders, voice dripping like thick honey, and the blond obeys.

His fingers slide down his hips with practiced grace. Over the angry red marks left by Gladio’s hand to spread his cheeks, and he hisses low in his throat and the delicious twinge of pain. Then, aware of the eyes still watching him in the narrow space, Prompto circles his water-slick fingers around tight muscles a few times before wriggling one inside.

“Gods _damn_ ,” comes the approval from behind him. Excited by the praise, Prompto responds by moaning as he twists his finger in deeper. In past the first knuckle, the second. Drawing it out slowly only to thrust back in again as far is it will go. He imagines he can  _hear_ the sound of Gladio’s grin stretching while he watches the show, and shivers down to his very core at the rush of it.

Then Gladio’s speaking again. His words tumble out like gravel, a sign of his restraint starting to crumble. “More,” he growls. “You can take more.”

He can, and he does. A second finger joins the first, aided by the water and his mounting need. Prompto sighs as he curls them, scissors them, an act he’s done before but never with an audience. Certainly not one so captivated by the sight.

At last, Gladio can resist no longer. Surging forward, the shield holds Prompto’s wrist in place (simultaneously trapping his fingers within him) even as he thrusts the thumb of his free hand into inviting heat. Prompto gasps as much in surprise as in delight and begins to rock his hips back in time with his fevered moans. “Gladio….”

“Better get good and ready if you want the whole thing.”

“I do!  _Ah!_  I do want it!”

“Tell me exactly what you want,” he purrs, dragging his thumb down against tight muscles as he speaks until Prompto is whining at the stretch. “Lemme hear those pretty pink lips get  _filthy_.”

 _Oh, fuck!_ Prom’s mind is spinning, his thoughts a jumbled, lust-fogged mess of images of all the things he wants Gladio to do to him. One after the other, they come tumbling out the second he opens his mouth. _“Fuck me,”_ he moans.  _“Split me open, choke me while you do it!”_

There’s a needy growl right behind his head.

_“Hold me down and break me, Gladio!”_

“Say my name again, Prom.”

_“Gladio!”_

“I’m gonna fuck you ‘til you’re screaming it. You want that?”

“Oh, gods!  _Yes!”_

“C’mere.” Rough hands pull him away from the wall, and any breath Prompto had left in him is snatched up by Gladio’s mouth. They kiss desperately, both too hard and too far gone to hold back anymore. Dimly Prompto is aware of the water being switched off - then his feet leave the slick tiles and he’s locking them instead around Gladio’s waist. The shield carries him out to the bedroom again still sopping wet, squeezes his fingers into the soft skin of his hips hard enough to bruise.

When the kiss breaks, it’s because Prompto is suddenly sailing through the air, weightless, until he crashes down back-first into the hotel bed.

Gladio’s on him in a heartbeat. “ _Gods_ , I want you,” comes the growl next to his ear, and Prompto’s hips roll up on their own. “Been thinking about how good you’re gonna feel. About how hot and sweet and tight you’ll be around me.”

“Hurry up and,  _ahh_ , find out, big guy.” It’s a direct challenge - albeit a breathless one - but it works. Prompto is lifted up again as powerful hands clench around his calves, bend his knees up to either side of his chest.

“Hold,” he commands, and a moment later Prompto can feel his weight leaving the bed. There’s a rustling of denim as Gladio hastily raids the pockets of his own jeans, then he’s back before the blond even sees what he’s got in his hands.

Or, rather, between his teeth. The foil wrapper tears easily; Gladio spits into his hand and rubs it onto the surface of the condom while he rolls it on. Wet fingers tease his opening one last time. Prompto bites his lip, tightens his fingers around the backs of his knees. Then, without further warning, the head of Gladio’s dick is forcing its way inside him.

Hot.  _Big_. Moving fast and with all the power of Gladio’s weight behind it. Prompto’s body stands no chance against the onslaught. He drops his head back to the sheets as more and more of that thick length drives into him, too overwhelmed even to cry out. Gladio, too, is silent, his focus fixed on squeezing within impossibly tight walls. His hands end up on the backs of the blond’s thighs for balance as he sinks in as far to the hilt as he can go, drags out halfway, then thrusts in again.

This time Prompto does cry out. Wide-eyed and flushed from head to toe, his breaths are coming in shallow gasps in time with Gladio’s rocking.  _Full, so full -_ \- and yet  _still_ not enough. His ankles settle perfectly on broad shoulders when he lets go of his legs. Trembling, he trails his fingers up the side of well-defined arms, over the straining triceps, intent on pulling Gladio in closer. But the shield is faster. He grabs at thin wrists and swiftly pins both of Prompto’s arms above his head, uses the new position as leverage to thrust his hips harder. Growls into the space between them as Prompto’s mouth falls open.

Skin slaps skin and the sound fills the room like a chorus. Around him, Prompto’s body is tight -  _mind-blowingly tight_  - squeezing him in a vice grip. Gladio’s already losing focus. With a gasp he bottoms out, grinding his hips hard against the mounds of the blond’s ass, but not moving any further.

_“G-Gladdy…!”_

Prompto’s moan is telling. He’s already beginning to squirm beneath him, trying to impale himself impossibly deeper on the thick length inside him. Still, Gladio doesn’t budge. He’s got an idea, something to help Prompto loosen up, relax a little for him. But first, they’re both going to have to work for it.

Gladio flips the smaller man over so fast he barely notices the loss of heat inside him. Suddenly he’s on his belly, face in the sheets, his legs cocked out to either side as he’s stretched open once more from behind. Slowly this time. Almost agonizing, he thinks, the way Gladio slides into him with such care. Any wriggling he could attempt, however, is thwarted by the arm laid across his lower back, and by Gladio’s weight holding him in place.

“Lemme hear you sing,” comes the low command. That cock pushes in another inch and Prom can’t help but squeak out a muffled protest. “Better not hold out on me. I wanna hear  _everything_.”

“Mm… _mmmm_ ….”

“Louder.”

_“Mmh! A-aahh!”_

“That’s it, baby, beg for it.” Gladio draws out again just as languidly, until the head of his cock is dragging against that tight ring.

“Please!” Prompto cries into the sheets. _“Gladio, please!”_

A powerful thrust has Prompto nearly arching off the mattress. His voice breaks, the moan that tears from his throat is a single breath, but before his fingers can even finish clenching in the sheets, Gladio is pulling out.

“Again.”

More moans, more half-sobs, as Prompto begs for his cock again and again. Each time the plea tumbles from his lips Gladio slams into him full-force, unrelenting, until the very bed is shaking beneath them. Over and over, harder and faster, nearly too much and yet – !

“P-pl…ease…!” On the last thrust, Gladio’s aim is dead on. White stars flash before Prompto’s eyes, too overwhelmed even to hear himself scream as his orgasm tears through his body. His cock twitches where it’s pressed against the mattress, and explodes thick and hot between his own body and the bed. While he rides out the waves, gasping and clutching the sheets as he is, Gladio, too, bows his head against the force of it. Prompto’s body jumps ten degrees around him, squeezes him so hard he forgets how to breathe. And then, as quickly as it started, Prom collapses like a boneless doll into the mess on the sheets.

The plan is a success. Once his body relaxes, it’s as if all tension is drained away at once. Gladio doesn’t spare him a moment to catch his breath before he’s twisting his fingers in yellow locks and fucking into him again, his pace renewed. Knees digging into the mattress, Gladio lets loose - pounding Prompto right up the length of the bed and into the headboard.

A pale hand flies up. Prompto latches onto the headboard and sucks in a wavering breath, uses it to call out Gladio’s name into the hot air of the room. He’s no longer sure which direction is up, down, left, right. The room is spinning and all his knows is the weight of Gladio inside him, breaking him apart thrust by powerful thrust.

Now Gladio’s name is a scream as it flies from his lips. The fingers in his hair tug hard in reponse, and his doll-like body follows back willingly until he’s brought flush with Gladio’s broad chest. He’s fucked nearly vertically, his hands scrabbling for purchase on the wall above the bed, but finding none, eyes wide and cock once more swelling between his legs.

_“Gla…! Di…! O-oooh!!”_

“Fuck! Say it again!”

Sharp teeth latch onto the side of his neck as Gladio’s hips pound into him over and over.

Prompto cries out - it might be his name, it might be a plea to the gods - but it’s enough to earn a desperate snarl against his throat.

_“Fuck!”_

Swearing again, Gladio tears the blond away from the wall and into his arms instead. His cock slips out - throbbing, too close to the edge - and he chases distraction by devouring every inch of that slender neck. Kissing, bruising, leaving dark marks in his wake that won’t fade until morning. But while the signs of his climax are gradually ebbing, they still linger on the very edge of his mind. He needs to get creative.

Prompto is putty in his hands as he lifts him up and over the side of the bed. His shoulders hit the wall just to the left of the nightstand - and a quick slap to the back of a pale thigh has Prom tucking his legs tight around Gladio’s waist, drawing his hips in close. Gladio fucks up into him once, twice, feeling out the balance before pinning him in place and drilling him hard. Moans and desperate cries tear from the blond’s raw throat as he clings, helpless, to the man of his dreams.

They manage to knock a frame off the wall on their way back down a moment later. Gladio hardly notices. He’s got Prompto under him now, legs spread wide at the edge of the mattress, his bright, feverish blue eyes  _begging_ for it. When he’s filled again he buries his voice in Gladio’s shoulder instead, once again able to do nothing but hold on for the wild ride. Harder, deeper, Gladio seems tireless as his hips slam non-stop into Prom’s body. His pace, like his breathing, is growing erratic now. Somewhere in the furthest reaches of Prompto’s mind he recognizes the signs, knows what’s coming - and knows what he wants. A voice somehow his own and yet so incredibly different breaks Gladio out of his trance-like focus.

_“Come on my face.”_

Never in his life has Gladio moved so quickly. One second, he’s balls-deep in Prompto’s ass, the next he’s kneeling on the mattress and throwing the condom across the room. His fist flies over his cock as if possessed, and it’s with a rumbling groan he allows his climax to hit him. White sex bursts out from between his fingers and streaks over reddened, freckled cheeks. Prompto shivers. He can see Gladio squeezing the tip as his face twists with pleasure, then more cum is dribbling over his lips, into his mouth. He swipes his tongue out to collect the delicate pearls. Exhausted as he is, he gasps hoarsely for more - and his eyes nearly roll back in ecstasy when Gladio’s cock itself slides between his lips.

The moment is short-lived. Oversensitive and panting for breath, Gladio eventually drops onto his back next to Prompto. It takes the last of his energy to smile, gesture Prom over to him. He watches through heavily-lidded eyes as the blond wobbles on trembling hands and knees. “Return the favor?” Blue eyes follow his fingers as they stroke down the length of his torso, over well-defined abs that seem to beckon to him. Speechless, Prompto pushes himself up until he’s straddling Gladio’s waist, then proceeds to fulfill the only fantasy he hasn’t yet made true that night: painting those perfect, hard-earned muscles with his own cum.

At last, utterly spent, Prompto melts down into Gladio’s warm arms. He’s asleep before his head even hits his chest.

* * *

The next morning is a rough one. The blond awakes to a parched throat, a sticky mess caked between his thighs, and an ache in his back like he’s been trampled by a stampede of wild anak (again). The bed - and much of the room itself - appears to be pretty well trashed, and his partner in crime is still snoring like a bull into the pillow beside him.

Gladio is a glorious mess: hair disheveled and splayed out mane-like around him, naked body sprawled across the sheets with no hint of shame, his mouth wide-open and chin covered in a line of drool. To anyone else, it might be shocking. To Prompto, it’s the most beautiful sight in the world.

He’s still staring when the snoring grinds to a halt and a single amber eye cracks open to greet him. “Morning’,” Gladio eventually says, his mouth stretching open in a yawn. “How ya feelin’?”

Prompto blinks once, then smiles. “I…I’m great.”

“Yeah, I know.” While the compliment is still being processed, Gladio continues, gesturing to Prom’s neck. “Uh, y’got a couple of….”

 _Oh!_ The blond touches his fingers to one of the tender bruises marking his skin and flushes at the memory.  _Sharp teeth on his throat, a growl that sent shivers down his spine._  He gulps. “Y-yeah, well. Nothing a potion or two can’t take care of, right?”

“Did you bring any?”

“Potions? No, I didn’t think….”

He chews his lip while he considers his options. It’s still early. Too early for the vendors to be open, but also early enough that he might just be able to sneak into Ignis’ room and grab a couple curatives from his bag. It wouldn’t be the first time, of course, though the circumstances are admittedly very different.

From the pillows, Gladio is watching him, lips curved in a soft smile and eyes warm. When he reaches up to stroke a thumb over Prompto’s cheek, the blond loses all trains of thought not related to Gladio’s tender, amber gaze. “I like this,” Gladio says so softly that Prompto almost doesn’t catch it.

“Like what…?”

“Waking up next to you.”

One heartbeat. Two. Prompto feels his face growing warm, but he doesn’t shy away from the touch. He realizes that while their night together was amazing - everything he could have dreamed of and more - what’s grown between them is more than just physical. The kisses, the looks, the longing even now, so close and yet not close enough - it all  _means something_. And from the way his own hand lifts to join the larger one already cupping his cheek, Prompto thinks it might be something he wants to take some real time to explore.

“I’m…gonna go get some potions,” he announces eventually, if for no other reason than to break the silence. Gladio smiles.

“Leave this mess to me, then. Good luck.”

“Yeah.” Before climbing off the bed, Prompto can’t resist leaning in for a swift peck right on those full, familiar lips. Then, blushing, he turns and tugs on his clothes, the sounds of Gladio’s humming following him all the way out of the room.

The one thing these motels have going for them is that all the rooms are all on the first floor. Makes it easier, Prom thinks as he twists his pin in the lock, for breaking and entering. There’s a click, and then he’s able to ease the full-length window open with practiced skill. Beyond, the room is still dark, and Prompto pads silently across the carpet while he waits for his eyes to adjust.

The first thing he spots is Iggy’s bag on the chair next to the desk. He beelines for it, ignoring for the moment the double bed against the center of the wall - until a shuffling sound halts him in his tracks.

 _“Iggyyy….”_  That’s Noct’s voice, half- or mostly asleep from the tone of the drawl. “C’me back t’bed….”

Prompto gulps and ducks quickly down behind the chair.

“I’m right here, Noct.”

Another sound, this time suspiciously like lips against smooth skin, and the prince sighs. More kisses, an odd giggle that Prompto can’t imagine coming from either of his friends, followed at last by more shuffling as bodies move under the sheets.

Prompto’s heart is racing. In the darkness of the room, he can make out two distinct forms on the bed now. A flash of pale skin as Noct raises himself up onto his elbows and the sheets fall off of his back. A leg - long, lean - gently kicks off the rest of the blankets as it lifts up and over bare hips, carefully drawing them in.  _“Highness.”_

He doesn’t stay for the rest. Snatching two potions from the open flap of the bag, Prompto bolts to his feet and races back out through the window before either of his friends has a chance to yelp in surprise. Nonstop all the way back the room he’s sharing with Gladio.

And all the while wearing a mischievous grin that speaks of the world of teasing in store for Iggy from here on out.


	6. Ignoct Side (Epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Prompto and Gladio were breaking records and furniture in the other room, Ignis and Noct were making a commotion all their own on the other side of the motel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By popular demand, the Ignoct Side ;)

Ignis was in a bad mood. He stalked across the room in silence, dropped his and Noct’s bags onto the chair and began rummaging through them as if he could find the answers he sought inside. The answer, for example, to how Prompto and Gladio thought what they were doing was acceptable. Or why,  _gods why_ , they insisted on doing it next to him in the tent every bloody night. 

There were supposed to be boundaries, lines that they, as protectors bound to their future king, were meant to uphold. Ignis understood that better than any of them. And listening to Prompto and Gladio give in to temptation again and again (literally, often multiple times a night) had merely served as a harsh reminder to Iggy of the things he could never have. 

His gaze lifted. Noct was sitting on the foot of the mattress (the room, he’d failed to notice upon entering, appeared to have only one bed) and seemed to be utterly absorbed in his mobile games.  _As usual_ , Ignis thought with the hint of an affectionate smile playing on his lips. If nothing else, splurging on the extra hotel room would give the prince a rare night off - and the chance to spend some time alone together for the first time in what felt like ages. 

“Would you like me to draw you a bath, Noct?” he said, amused at the way deep blue eyes flickered almost imperceptibly away from the screen of his phone.

“Eh. Maybe later. I’m kinda hungry.”

“Dinner, then. I could prepare something simple, if you like.”

It came as a surprise when Noctis actually switched off his phone and tossed it onto the bed behind him. He smiled, got to his feet, and stretched his arms up over his head. Ignis was very professional about  _not_ noticing the way his shirt rode up on the lean planes of his stomach, or the barely-audible sigh that graced his lips as his back popped. “I was thinkin’ Crow’s Nest?” 

“Noctis.”

“Oh, come on, Specs. Take a load off tonight.” The prince strode forward, latched his arm around Iggy’s elbow and beamed up at him. “You deserve a break sometimes, too.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” But he knew himself well enough to see the inevitable concession coming, and so he saved himself the trouble by letting Noct take the lead. 

The diner was only a short walk away (he could smell the grease and processed meats long before they stepped through the entrance) and Noctis ordered the same special for both of them. Iggy had to admit - while the fish could have been fresher and the cheese drowned out the taste (and nutritional value) of the broccoli, the taste itself wasn’t bad. At least Noct was enjoying it, and his bright smile and easy laughter quickly set Ignis at ease.

It was not a date. Far from it. But as the minutes passed into hours and the sun began to set outside, neither of them had moved from the booth. Ignis was on his fourth - or was it fifth? - cup of coffee and Noct had gone through several sugar packets (the wrappers were scattered all over the table in too many pieces to count). Yet they were still chatting, still finding that the words flowed easily, naturally. They laughed about their adventures on the road, and reminisced about home. It had been ages since Ignis had seen Noct to talkative and so open, smiling so wide his face had to ache from the effort. 

His own heart ached in sympathy. 

“So,” Noct grinned once the conversation lulled. He was staring at his glass as he toyed his finger along the rim. “Why’d you  _really_ kick Prom and Gladio out tonight?”

Ignis tensed. “Do I really need a reason to want some peace and quiet?” 

“They never bothered you before. Did something happen?”

He considered it, he honestly did. Telling Noct everything, airing their friends’ dirty laundry right there in the middle of the empty diner. All the late-night whispers and muffled moans, the creaking of the mattress or the gentle rocking of the bedroll that he was still amazed the prince couldn’t feel. The  _looks_  and the  _touches_ and the obnoxious way they acted as if it were some big secret. 

But that would be petty, and Ignis was a gentleman. So instead he folded his hands on the table and shrugged. “I suppose I hoped to enjoy the evening with you.”

Across the booth, Noctis looked…odd. Not offended, or even confused, but something more along the lines of  _curious_. His eyes widened and then relaxed again. His lips parted as if he wanted to speak, to say something in response, but didn’t trust his words to come out right. 

“ _You_ , uh.” There it was, that familiar break in his voice that meant he was either surprised, excited, or both. “You enjoying it, then?” 

A chuckle. As if Ignis could - or would - ever say  _no_. “Of course I am.”

“Me, too.”  Noct paused, letting his fingers draw idle patterns in the condensation on his glass. “I think I want that bath now.” 

“Certainly.” Ignis gestured to the waitress for their check, counted the money out of his billfold and smiled as he passed it to her. All the while, he missed the way Noctis’ eyes followed every move he made.

In fact, it wasn’t until they were back in their hotel room that Ignis even noticed something was strange. Usually, at least back in Insomnia, the prince had always been shy about bathing. Had always insisted he could take care of himself, that he was capable,  _get out of the bathroom, Specs, gosh!_ Yet that night, they barely made it through the door before Noct was pulling his clothes off left and right. His t-shirt flew through the air and landed at Iggy’s feet before he could even reach the tub. 

“Are you  _that_ excited for a little hot water?” he teased - but stopped short at the sight of his prince striding confidently (and mostly naked) into the bathroom behind him. 

Noct hooked a thumb in the hem of his boxers and smiled. “I guess it’s…been a while.”

A weaker man might have flushed. Might have taken such a cryptic answer at face value and accepted it for the invitation that it was. But Ignis was stubborn, and hopeless, and his brain quickly and automatically supplied him with the  _logical_  explanation for Noctis’ behavior -  _exhaustion_. 

“Well, then,” he smiled fondly. “After your bath, I’d be happy to help you relax before we go to bed.”

Noct shivered visibly. Ignis turned the water temperature up another two notches. 

* * *

The prince was finished with his bath in record time. Chalking it up to weeks on the road without the promise of a real bed or soft pillows, Ignis refrained from complaint about the wasted water and instead welcomed Noctis with a warm smile. “I hope you’re ready,” he called from the foot of the mattress. “I’ve gotten everything prepared.”

And he had: massage oil on the night stand, a candle he’d found in the hotel’s wardrobe that gave off a soothing scent. A towel laid out atop the sheets (for the oil, of course) and even a relaxing melody playing from his phone next to the pillows. All in all a completely innocent scene. Nothing that could have been taken out of context, or for anything more than it was meant to be. 

So when Noctis moaned around his bottom lip and let his bath towel drop from around his naked hips, Ignis was understandably stunned speechless. 

“Fuck, Iggy,” Noct groaned, his toes curling into the carpet as he stared at the scene. “I mean, I’ve always kinda known how you felt but. I never expected you to actually…. I mean, I’ve been wanting this for a long time, too, it’s just so sudden and….” 

“Noct.”

“I’ve thought about how it might happen, y’know.  _Fuck_ , I’ve imagined it so many different ways and now….”

“ _Noctis_.”

“Like, would  _you_ do it to  _me_ , or would _I_ do it to  _you_? And like, either way is cool, and stuff, but I was kinda hoping you might be into bottoming and – “

“ _Noctis Lucis Caelum, what in the name of the Six are you babbling about?_ ”

The prince froze. He tore his eyes away from the scene on the bed to where Iggy was standing, across the room, his own face pale with apparent shock. “…Aren’t we gonna have sex?”

“What in all of bloody Eos gave you that idea?!”

Silence. Noct looked from Iggy to the bed, over his shoulder to the bathroom still steaming with moisture, back to Iggy and his bare, slick fingers. And he swallowed. “You flirted with me. At the diner.”

“I  _what?”_

“This was all so you could take me on a date. You said so.” The prince’s voice was breaking, his confidence crumbling more with each word. “You got Prompto and Gladio a room so we could spend the night sleeping together.”

“I got them a room so  _they_  could spent the night sleeping together without keeping  _me_ from sleeping at all.” Ignis shook his head. This was all happening too fast, he was having trouble keeping up.  _Had Noctis just admitted to wanting to…?!_

_“Oh,”_  was all the prince said. He dropped his gaze to his feet, shifting awkwardly on them. “So. I guess. That means you don’t….”

“A moment, please.” He took off his glasses. Put them back on. Took them off again and sighed deeply. Someday, somehow, he knew he was going to regret this. “…Go back to that part about having imagined this happening.”

Blue eyes darkened and Noct let his feet carry him optimistically across the carpet as he spoke. “You mean, how I dreamed about it?” Ignis, silent (and acutely aware of Noct’s desire swelling between his legs), nodded. “I always knew we’d start with a kiss. You’d be so gentle, but I’d beg you for more.”

He was close now, enough that Ignis could have reached out and touched him if he hadn’t been rooted under that intense gaze. “I imagined your hands on me. Your mouth, too.”

“ _Noct.”_

“Iggy?” It wasn’t a question - Noct was begging permission. He was standing all but on top of Ignis now, his fingers hovering a hair’s breadth from his lips, trembling with the effort of restraint. “Please?”

A nod was all it took. 

Ignis found himself going back, back, his mind reeling as Noctis pressed him hard against the wall. The prince’s lips - so hot, so demanding - drew the very breath from his lungs, until his chest ached and he broke the kiss with a decidedly urgent gasp. Familiar fingers worked open his shirt, his belt, twined with his own and guided him from the wall to the bed and then down onto it. Ignis went more than willingly. 

He would be lying if he said he’d expected Noctis to be confident or bold - or seemingly experienced - when it came to sex. Mostly because he’d spent years trying not to expect anything at all. But he supposed he had someone (no doubt Prompto) to thank for a few extra-curricular lessons, because once Noct’s head was in his lap Ignis was moaning his appreciation to the gods themselves. 

Never in his life had he felt anything so mind-numbingly erotic. 

And after he’d spilled himself, watching with fascination as Noct drew the back of his hand across his lips, he wondered why in the heavens he had denied himself this pleasure for so, so long. 

That night, while Gladio and Prompto smashed picture frames and splintered headboards at the other end of the hall, Ignis learned what it meant to truly serve his future king. He learned how to touch him so that his eyes rolled back in pleasure. Where to kiss him to make his skin tingle and shiver just right. How the heat of Noct’s desire filled him right up to the brim, until he was breathless, weightless, clinging to strong shoulders and crying out with joy. 

Even after they’d finished, and Noct had curled against him in a sweaty, sticky, kiss-marked heap, Ignis could only stare at the ceiling in wonder. His impossible dream had come true. By accident, even, which it made it all the more unbelievable. Despite himself, despite the post-orgasmic warmth still stirring in his veins, Iggy found himself laughing. Without Gladio and Prompto and all those sleepless, miserable nights, none of this magic would have ever happened. 

In the morning, then. After some coffee, a shower, and perhaps another taste of his prince’s cock, Ignis was determined to give his friends the apology - and the appreciation - they deserved.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this filth! Pop over to my Tumblr (lhugbereth) for more all day errday!


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